The Perfect Boyfriend [Daragon]

Chapter 18

I stared at the large double golden gates before me with a golden lion head that contains the door bell, located at the reachable part, complete with a golden knocker pierced in its nose. Everything inside the lot was hidden by the tall shrubs, and located deep within but visible enough for you to notice at one glance, were security cameras.

I gulped. "This seems beyond impossible."

Jiyong rolled his eyes. "What do you mean? He's your biological father. You have the every right to demand his presence."

"In normal circumstances." I added.

"Even if he's the King of France and the head of monarch here, it doesn't mean he's exempted from paternal duties." Jiyong countered. "And it's not like monarchies don't give a damn about families. You should have read about it, or maybe watched it from Goong. Monarchies are crazy about families. That's where they gain absolute power. The more the heir, the greater the chance the power stays within the family."

After heaving a sigh, since I don't have any choice but to move forward, I reached for the doorbell and pushed it. From the inside, I heard a loud sound of the trumpets playing, the universal sound of welcoming royalties. The music subsided after a few minutes, maybe five, and a deep, menacing sound came from the golden lion head.

"Qui ose troubler mon sommeil?" (Who dares to disturb my slumber?) It roared.

I hesitated at first. "Um, Sandara Park?"

Then I heard the sound that kind of goes like: Pwang!

"Hé!" (Hey!) I heard someone hissed. "Qu'est ce que c'était pour?" (What was that for?)

"Pourquoi êtes-vous en train de voler mon travail? Retournez à vos légumes!" (Why are you stealing my job? Go back to your vegetables!) Another person hissed back.

"But I heard that someone rang the doorbell." The other replied, innocently. "Then I found a cute girl with a bad boy hanging out by the gates so I thought you're probably slacking off since there's not much who rang the goddamn doorbell, which is why I took the chance to be the receptionist."

Pwang! Another sound came off, and I winced. That's when I realized that it sounded like someone used a pan to slap you in the face.

"Shut up." The other hissed. "And go back to your job!"

There was silence for a few minutes, and I felt my knees already going numb when another person, not the same as the one who greeted me first, spoke in a gentle and softer manner, "To whom I owe my greetings?"

I answered much more confidently than before, "Sandara Park, from South Korea."

"Yes, the Koreans have a soft spot for the royal family since the former Queen is Korean herself." The receptionist said. "What's your business for coming here?"

I hesitated for a moment again before saying, "I'm here to speak with the King regarding personal matters I've found out myself."

The receptionist was kind of surprised, not that I see it, but it reflected in his voice. "I see. Are you perhaps a journalist?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm a registered Architect."

"I'm sorry Architect Park, but the King doesn't accept crash visits. He would prefer appointments beforehand. He's out of the moment and won't come back until evening." The receptionist said. "But it was nice of you to visit."

"I--I can wait for him until the evening. I don't have work and--"

"The King doesn't like it when someone waits for him outside." The receptionist stops me in midsentence, his voice soft as a mother's. "Please do make an appointment first Architect Park through phone before you come."